Our Crosses to Bear
by SisiDraig - 2
Summary: ONE-SHOT: After Ste rediscovers Brendan's cross in that box (circa. November?), it leads to a (much needed) conversation with Danny about Brendan Brady. - HUGE thank you to AbbieWalters, who wrote a story with a similar premise months ago, and allowed me to go ahead and post this. CHECK OUT HER STORY; "Brendan's Cross" and all her other work.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing and have less than 20 NZD to my name. Sue me at your own risk of huge legal bills and a disappointing outcome.**

**Authors Note: HUGE thank you to the lovely "AbbieWalters" who's let me post this fic despite it being ridiculously similar to her fic "Brendan's Cross". Go and check out her work; it's the Brendan Brady to my Joel Dexter (i.e. my fic is trying desperately hard to be her fic, but is not quite fooling anybody mainly because it's too small ... and Scottish) - The analogy fell apart at the end, but you get my meaning. **

**Also, "no" I don't believe Brendan would have ever told Ste he was 'beautiful' but I liked the line so I'm sticking my fingers in my ears and skipping away singing about it being my "artistic license".**

**Enjoy!**

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**Our Crosses to Bear**

'Was it Doug's?'

Ste shoved the chain in his pocket quickly.

'Was what Doug's?' he asked. He knew he wasn't going to fool Danny, but he hoped his dad might take the hint and drop the subject. No such luck.

'That necklace you just put in your pocket.'

'Necklace,' Ste grimaced a little, reaching into his pocket and wrapping his fingers around the cross. He could feel it digging into his palm. The pain almost felt like comfort. 'He'd hate you calling it that.'

'Who would?'

'No one,' he shook his head and tried to keep the tears back. Danny was already struggling to stop Ste from falling apart over Doug, how the hell would his dad ever be able to comprehend the mess he'd been left in after Brendan? His seams still weak and torn, the only comfort an old cross digging a red mark into his palm could be.

'He was obviously important to you, son.'

Ste couldn't help himself from nodding. No matter what, he'd never denied Brendan's importance in his life.

'Want to talk about it?'

'Not right now, alright. I'm supposed to be thinking about Doug. I haven't got time to think about anything else … anyone else,' he muttered. He felt irrationally angry, but that wasn't unusual. When it came to Brendan, his emotions had always been overly heightened. It had been the kind of love that felt like dying; both with it and without it.

'Alright,' Danny nodded, squeezing Ste's shoulder comfortingly. 'Just, tell me one day?' Ste looked up. It still felt weird having a father figure looking out for him. He'd only really ever had Brendan take care of him before, and that was anything but fatherly. 'Let me know my son,' Danny urged.

Ste nodded his agreement, tapping his dad's hand lovingly. This was his family now, and he'd seen how not being honest could destroy a family. He remembered Cheryl, tears streaming down her blotchy, make-up-less face as she apologised over and over for shooting Seamus. If everyone had been honest, if Brendan had answered his phone, if, if, if….

No. He had to stop. Today was about Doug. He had to be thinking about Doug.

It was a few weeks before Danny broached the subject of the cross again. Though perhaps it was Ste's fault that the topic came about.

It had been one of those days where getting out of bed had been an effort more painful than a punch in the gut. It had been one of those days where Ste had dreamt of Brendan, one of those days where it had taken longer than usual to remember that he was never going to see that stupid smile under that stupid tash ever again. It was one of those days when the agony of remembering reality hurt more than ever.

He'd rolled onto his stomach and opened his bedside draw. There was Brendan's chain with the cross, faithfully nearby keeping him safe in his sleep. Next to it, Doug's wedding ring. The only things he had left of the two men he'd loved, the two men he'd lost. He picked up the cross and slipped it around his neck. It felt like a hug, it felt like an "I love you" in a whispered Irish voice and it felt like his heart was being torn to pieces all over again. But he'd become used to the dull ache of heartbreak now, so he got out of bed and pulled on his comfiest tracksuit and stomped his way downstairs.

Danny was the only one home. He was pouring milk onto his cereal when Ste came down the stairs. Ste was more than aware of his dad's eyes flicking to the chain so he picked it up and slid it under his shirt. Hidden. It looked stupid on him anyway. It was somehow too chunky for his little pigeon chest, and he didn't believe in it the way Brendan had anyway.

'Someone on your mind?' Danny asked, when Ste slid into an empty seat.

'I'm not talking about it,' Ste insisted, pouring his own bowl of cereal and taking the glass of orange juice Danny had poured him.

'I think you should.'

'Are you ever gonna let this go?'

'That depends,' Danny said seriously, taking a sip of his own juice. 'Are you?'

Ste dropped his own spoon. He suddenly didn't feel hungry. In fact, he felt sick. He had let it go, hadn't he? As much as he could, as much as he could be expected to after … everything.

Brendan had been such a huge part of his life, he'd been everything in his life for a while. He'd been his past, his future and now he was gone. But he wasn't quite gone enough, he wasn't gone like Doug. Ste could let him Doug go, it was painful, it took every ounce of strength he had but he could let him rest peacefully.

Brendan was different. He couldn't let him go. There would always be that matchstick light of "hope" in the cavernous expanse of "unlikely". But … Brendan _was_ still out there. He was in prison. He was there right now. Maybe he was fighting, maybe he was praying, or maybe he was thinking of his Steven – and that made him feel even worse. Ste pushed his cereal away. He couldn't eat, not now.

'Look, Ste,' Danny sighed. 'I'm not going to push you, I….'

'His name was Brendan,' Ste mumbled in barely more than a whisper, eyes focused on his bowl. 'Brendan Brady. He was me first … bloke like.' He picked up his spoon and started pushing the cereal around in the milk. It floated in weird patterns. 'He introduced me to meself. Showed me who I really was. And to him,' he closed his eyes to stop the tears, 'to him, I was important. He said I was everything to him, and I believe him.' He glanced up and gave his dad a watery smile: ''Cause he was everything to me.'

'Sounds like a good guy,' Danny nodded encouragingly.

'Not really,' Ste almost laughed. It was laugh or sob, and Brendan wouldn't appreciate the latter. 'In fact, ask anyone 'round here, they'd tell you he was a monster, or evil but … he weren't. He weren't, he was just … different. And we had our problems, me and him,' he nodded, wiping his cheeks with his sleeves. 'There were times when I hated him, there were times when I wanted to kill him, there were times when I thought he was going to kill me but….' He sniffed and found a tissue being pushed under his nose. He didn't want it. He didn't want to cry, not anymore, not over Brendan Brady. He'd wasted enough tears on that man.

'You loved him,' he heard Danny's voice. It was distant somehow and Ste could only nod, and bloody hell he needed that tissue now. He blew his nose into it. He must have looked ugly. "You look beautiful when you cry, Steven," he remembered the night his kids had been taken away by Amy. "Maybe that's why God keeps making things so hard for you". He could have punched Brendan when he'd said it, but he always thought about that comment when the tears started to fall. Even now, he'd still be beautiful to Brendan.

'He'd have jumped in front of a bullet for me, dad,' he gasped, it wasn't a sob. It wasn't. 'He was always there, even when I didn't want him to be, he was always looking out for me.' The tears were coming to fast to catch in his tissue and suddenly two arms were wrapped around him, holding him tight, protecting him from feeling alone.

'Hey, hey,' Danny's voice was muffled in his ear. 'It's okay. It's okay.'

'No,' Ste shook his head angrily. He tried to push Danny away, but his dad just held on tighter. 'He was always there when I needed him. Even when we weren't talking, he was always putting me first. But when he needed me, I didn't protect him. I didn't stop them, I just….'

'Stop who? Ste. What happened? Where did he go?'

'Prison,' Ste wept. There was no denying it now, he was crying. These tears were coming thick and fast. 'And he didn't even do it. What they arrested him for, he didn't even do it. He was protecting his sister. ''Cause that's what he did, right. Protected the people he loved. But now he's gone, and he told me to move on with my life and I did, right. I tried.' He dried his face with the base of his palm and pushed Danny to arm's length. 'I was with Doug. And maybe I didn't love Doug the way he deserved, but I did love him. I did, just not in the same way I loved Brendan.'

'Ste,' Danny was smiling softly. 'That's not a bad thing. Love is unique, every couple experiences it differently. Some couple's argue all the time, some barely argue at all. Some couples spend all their time together, some prefer some time apart. Some couples have the same friends, and some couples have different interests. It's all the same love in the end.' Ste just sniffed and dried his face again. Danny rubbed his hand up and down Ste's bicep warmly. 'You're so lucky, Ste. You've loved twice, and been loved twice. And you will love again, son, I promise.' Then he bumped Ste gently on the arm and got to his feet to begin tidying the table.

'Anyway,' Danny said, taking the dishes to the sink. 'Sooner or later this Brendan's going to get out of prison, isn't he?'

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**Thanks for reading all the way to the end, you brilliant people, you. Leave a review and Brendan will tell you you're beautiful when you cry. (Not making any promises that he won't also be the reason you're crying).**

**Finally, if you haven't already, don't forget to check out the original (and the best) "Brendan's Cross" by AbbieWalters.**


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